


Tankquillised

by naboru



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bromance, Fluff, Gen, Gen Work, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two tanks are stuck in alt-mode in the middle of the desert and don’t really want to leave…</p><p>Brawl, Blitzwing (mentions of others) / gen, humour, fluff, tank-bromance</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tankquillised

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Tankquillised  
>  **Warnings:** gen, comedy  
>  **Continuity:** G1 [part of [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)’s [Dysfunction AU](http://community.livejournal.com/lost_carcosa/19574.html#cutid1)]  
>  **Characters:** Brawl, Blitzwing (mentions of others)  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
>  **Summary:** Two tanks are stuck in alt-mode in the middle of the desert and don’t really want to leave…  
>  **Beta:** [Ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty)
> 
>  **Note:** For and , because apparently they had a conversation about this and I snatched the bunny. Written for the prompt "I think I shot him."

“Well,” Brawl said, “at least I shot him.”

There was a pause in which he focused on the tank next to him before he corrected himself. “Or I think I shot him.”

“Yeah… know what you mean.” Blitzwing sighed in tank alt-mode. “It’s hard to tell with the Autobots. Look all the slaggin’ same in alt! Stupid glitches!”

“Just can tell them apart by colour, and even that doesn’t work all the time,” the Combaticon added and gained an acknowledging huff from his comrade.

For a moment they just sat there in the desert, in silence, the sun heating up their plating.

Brawl broke the silence. “I still want to know how the ‘bots got the plan for that thing. What’s it called again?”

Blitzwing answered promptly, “Transfixatron.”

“…no wonder I can’t remember that name…”

“Yeah. It’s Megatron. Guess he has a thing for dramatic names.”

“Urgh, don’t start with Megatron, 'kay?”

“Oh yeah, sorry pal. My bad.”

Brawl didn’t answer, just kept sitting. It wasn’t as though he could do anything else being stuck in alt-mode in the middle of the desert. Not that he complained; there where worse places to be stuck in alt-mode on this planet. He couldn’t think of any right now, but he’d never bothered to explore that planet.

This time, Blitzwing spoke again. “I think they forgot us here…”

“Yeah, but there worse places you can be forgot.”

“Such as…?”

Brawl thought for a moment and the first thing which came to his mind was, “A dead, plain meteor, for example.”

Blitzwing shifted slightly. “That never happened to me.”

Brawl just huffed. “Lucky thing.”

Blitzwing laughed and his alt-mode shuddered. Then, he went quiet, his voice uneasy. “Uhm, I could comm Astrotrain. But I think he’ll yell at me again that I got myself in trouble…”

Brawl slewed his turret to his fellow tank in a sympathising manner. “Yeah… I could comm Blast Off, but he’d shout the same… and then he’ll shoot me.”

“Huh? Seriously?”

Adjusting his turret again to the wide desert, Brawl moved a bit back and forth, as though nodding. “He does that now and then. I mean shooting at us…”

“Why? Aren’t you... gestalt or something? Like best buddies?”

“With Blast Off?” Another huff, sounding partly bitter this time. “Not really. He doesn’t like all that stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“You know… _people_.”

“Urgh… Sorry pal. You weren’t lucky with your team,” Blitzwing mumbled. “I’ve always though Vortex is the… you know _aft-head_ of your team.”

“Nah, not just Vortex.” Actually, Brawl didn’t really want to think of his team when the sun was so pleasant, but he couldn’t stop himself from adding. “They’re all aft-heads…”

Blitzwing kept quiet after that, but with a few movement he drove closer to Brawl, his turret pointing in the same direction as the Combaticon’s.

Another pause, before the triple changer sighed. “Eventually, we _have_ to call one of’em.”

“Slag…”

“Yeah…”

Silence.

“How do we decide who we’ll comm?” Brawl asked, and if he’d been in root-mode, he’d have raised his optical ridges in the questioning, confused looking habit of his. 

“Uhm… We could play for it?”

That was something Brawl really didn’t want to hear. He'd had some bad experiences with gambling. But then, Blitzwing wasn’t as bad as his team. Blitzwing was a cool buddy, and so he asked, “How?”

“We can shoot it out.”

“…”

“I mean, we shoot and who shoots the furthest wins. The loser has to comm his ride.”

“Sounds like a plan.” And it was something Brawl was good at.

“How many shots do you have left?“

“Uhm… 21.”

“Haha, I’ve still 24!”

“Hmpf!” Brawl vents air through his intakes, sounding slightly annoyed. “I told you I shot that Autobot!”


End file.
